


Like Ink, It Stained

by Senowolf



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bad Poetry, Barista Bellamy, Bellamy Can be a Barista, Boys In Love, Ficlet, First Love, Gift Fic, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Murphy is a Poet, Poetic, Poetry, Prompt Fic, Romantic Soulmates, Self Prompt, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, True Love, lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-10-04 07:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10271756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Senowolf/pseuds/Senowolf
Summary: They say that when you meet your soulmate--or soul friend--that everything will be in shades of their eye color. That you will finally see everything and anything the way they were meant to be seen. I believe it, because I have seen the looks of others when they meet their mates. They either break down crying, laugh loudly, or drop everything and run into their soulmate’s arms like they would greet a lost family member.* * *Or another soulmate au I wrote up for a class before writing my current soulmate one. You should check that one out too. :)





	1. Brown

**Author's Note:**

> This is short but sweet. Enjoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is brown.

It’s all blank. Just shades of a color that never changes. Everything is what they call, black, and white. Nothing has any real meaning until you can meet the one. Nothing else matters but the search for some, other color. Anything more than the endless, dull shades of black and white.

They say that when you meet your soulmate--or soul friend--that everything will be in shades of their eye color. That you will finally see everything and anything the way they were meant to be seen. I believe it, because I have seen the looks of others when they meet their mates. They either break down crying, laugh loudly, or drop everything and run into their soulmate’s arms like they would greet a lost family member.

It’s cold out this morning, but it’s alright because I like the cool, brisk morning air. I’ve sort of given up on finding my soulmate. Most people either find their’s by the time they are in their early 20s, but never past 25. I’m 28. Still looking, but not as hard. I’m currently running, doing the usual early morning routine. Wake up, eat breakfast, run the 1½ miles to the nearest coffee shop and settle down to write some more on my book. If I ever manage to find my soulmate, then I will gladly put all of my emotions and feelings into my book. So those who haven’t met theirs can experience the feeling of meeting them.

The sun is a bright white, blinding even though the ombre of a grey sky behind it is dimming it’s brilliance. But then, it wasn’t grey anymore.

Because, Jesus, it is brown. It is _**brown** _. Different shades of this new color fill my vision, bombarding all of my senses somehow. It’s only after my head is aching with the pain of trying to take in all the new colors that I realize I’m looking at someone.

He is looking directly back at me with a shocked face. Then, almost horrifyingly a smile breaks across his face before he lurches forward and picks me up. I yelp as he swings me around, but I am laughing. This was only the beginning of something great. This is what everyone makes a fuss about. I can understand it all now.

I find out that his name is Bellamy, Bellamy Blake. He has a younger sister named Octavia. She apparently found her soulmate at the age of 16. It made Bell keep faith that he could still find his, even if he was 32. He never truly gave up looking for me. It's heartwarming.

Bellamy is brown. He is the color of home. He is the flavor of chocolate on a cold day. He is the color of the grass that prickles at my skin as I write about him. Umber is the color of the freckles on his cheeks. Tawny is the color of his lips against mine. He is the taste of hot cocoa when he kisses me. He is the feeling of a warm fire when he makes love to me.

Everything, is the color of his eyes. And if everything is brown, then I pray it never changes. Like ink, his eyes stained my world as if it was a blank paper in dear need of some words. His words are spoken over my skin like my prayers late at night. Soulmates might be hard to find, and maybe you will never find them. But, keep looking, because they are the color of everything you will ever need.


	2. Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is in shades of blue.

The air is thick with the smell of nighttime mist turned into morning dew. The honeysuckle gives a sweet accent to the lilac bushes that line the road that I'm running on. I'm more jogging than running, enjoying the cool morning and all its wonders, even if it's through the keyhole of a black and white door. I'm going on the rough age of 33 here soon and still haven't found the one. The one who will let me see the earth through an open door as opposed to a keyhole. I wonder who it will be.

Everytime that I think I might find the one, it always turns out to be wrong. I don't want to give up hope and live a lonely, unfulfilled life knowing I never found my soulmate, but at this rate, I'm starting to fall into the pit of doubt. Ever since I was a child my mother was always talking about the beauty of soulmates, and while I believed every word she said, part of me was beginning to question if the search is even worth it anymore. I'm 32, and practically soulless.

So to ease my suffering, I paint. I paint pictures with different shades of white, black, and grey. I've heard from others that my paintings are truly one of a kind, I get so many offers for them and at good prices. But I always tell them that they aren't for sale. I want to wait till I can see them myself. I wonder what they will look like. What color will I see them in when I find my mate? _**If you find them.**_ A voice in the back of my head whispers.

I slow down when I hear heavy, paced breathing. Soles of shoes hit the asphalt in measured tats, getting closer. I didn't even bother to look up until the shoes came into my vision. Then I met his gaze. I can tell my face is hanging open in shock of the moment, of course it is. A color--I think they may have called blue--fills the world slowly, then all at once.

The trees around me blotted like colorlful ink being dripped into a glass of water, the sun turned into a pale turquoise angel of the sky. But mostly, his eyes burned deep and dark like the depths of the ocean coming up to meet me. I didn't even know the colors or their shades bursting through my mind, I just knew that I wanted--no, _needed_ , to hug him. A smile split across my face like an eclipse and suddenly I was running. Everytime I closed my eyes to blink, color exploded behind the breaking door that had made up my life before. That door was now being ripped open by me, by him.

His eyes widened and a yelp left his throat when I wrapped my thick arms around him and hoisted him up in the air and twirled. After the initial shock, he laughed. It was a sound unlike any other. It was happiness, joy. If I had to try to describe it though, it would sound closest to a sad bird that couldn't sing, but who finally learned to fly. He was found, he was freed of the world I knew we'd just previously known before. Part of me knew that in a few more minutes, we'd be getting headaches from the rush of colors, but like I gave two cents. I had everything I wanted.

I found later on that my paintings _did_ look entirely inspirational. But then it hit me, everyone saw these paintings in the color of their mates eyes, and I couldn't bring myself to part with them, but I had to. I kept the numbers of people who had wanted them before, and asked if they still wanted them, and took the money they generously gave me before shipping the paintings off in wooden crates. He was there with me the whole time. I found myself painting him soon after we got together. He is my muse. He is everything to me. No one will ever be able to take him away from me.

He is the color of the sky on a cloudy day, the flavor of sea salt and honey when he kisses me. Peacock is the color of him when I love him at night, aegean is the color of his eyes in the morning after. Spruce is the color of the sky that I paint around his beautiful frame every day, and stone is the color of his eyes. Everything is in blues, all the differentiating shades only found in those beautiful iris'. I was a sailor stuck in the desert of some other world unlike the one I needed. I was left lost and wandering around for someone, anyone. Then he came rushing in. His waves lapped at my feet, the mist of his fingertips soaked into my hair and soul, finding a place to call home at last. His kisses were warm undertows that always dragged me down into him. He was my home. I was on a boat, living with him, beside him, through him. He was my place to call home and by God if anything could take that away. 

Even when a house is gone, the earth where it sat will still feel like home. 

**Author's Note:**

> As I said I do have another soulmate fic up for Murphamy, its called Holes In The Sky, you guys should check it out. Anyways, you should leave a comment or kudos. Feedback is so very appreciated. <3


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